


Stacked Odds

by NicktheHuman



Series: Odds Universe [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Enoshima Junko Being Enoshima Junko, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:09:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29812386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicktheHuman/pseuds/NicktheHuman
Summary: Mukuro had been part of the Future Foundation for two years after Makoto killed Junko. It'd been a pretty rough road, but she was happy. She had Makoto. She had friends. Things were better.So when she wakes up on a tropical island with fuzzy memories and the ghost of her sister, she knows something strange is afoot.A sequel to What are The Odds? You'll need to read that one to understand this one.
Relationships: Ikusaba Mukuro/Naegi Makoto, Kamukura Izuru/Nanami Chiaki, probably others - Relationship
Series: Odds Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191473
Comments: 16
Kudos: 36





	1. Bad Morning, Mukuro

**Author's Note:**

> I'M BACK BABEH! 
> 
> Again, please read What are the Odds first, as this is a sequel.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neo world Program? Uh oh.

Mukuro Ikusaba woke up on a beach, which immediately set her mind whirring: _I wasn’t on a beach. I wasn’t anywhere near a beach. Why the hell am I on a goddamn beach?_

In the past two years, the Future Foundation had sent her many places: Towa Town, war-torn city scapes, deserts, jungles... and to Sakakura’s disappointment, she returned successful each time. She wouldn’t put it past him to have the higher ups dump her on a beach with no recollection of how she got there, though whether or not he’d be successful is another matter altogether. 

She sat up and rubbed her head. She was trained for things like this; go from the most recent memory and try to push forward. Failing that, go back...  
\-------  
_She had gotten up from in a dorm room of the Future Foundation’s._

_It wasn’t hers though._

_Despite having been a member for the past year, which was after serving a year under heavy probation, she was still supposed to be monitored by one of the branch leaders. Even still, they never caught her as she snuck out of her own dorm room to go into Makoto’s. She wasn’t a master of covert operations for nothing._

_Unlike Makoto, she was still an early riser. “Time to get up, puppy.”_

_She heard Makoto groan and roll over, facing away from her. His already messy hair was even more messy as he ruffled it against his pillow. “Nooooooooo...”_

_Mukuro couldn ‘t help but smile and hug him from behind as he did. “Come on. Today’s when we enact you and the detective’s big, secret plan.”_

_“Don’t remind me,” Makoto grumbled. “How can you not be nervous about it?”_

_“I’m always nervous when we’re dealing with... him,” Mukuro admitted. “But the rest of the Remnants have agreed to turn themselves in. If we’re going to enact this program, this is the best time to do it. And besides... I’d love to see Munakata’s face when we pull this off.” With great strength, she pulled the two of them into a seated position. “So come on, Ultimate Hope. Time to get up.”_

_“I never agreed to that nickname,” Makoto yawned sleepily, turning to kiss her. “But fine. You win.”_

_“Well, that’s what they all called you when we got out.” Mukuro teased._

_“I prefer puppy. But only you get to call me that.”_  
\-------  
Mukuro’s eyes opened wide. The beach. Jabberwock Island.

Why was she in the Neo World program? She wasn’t supposed to be here. She sat bolt upright in the sand and looked around.

She wasn’t supposed to be in the program. The Remnants of Despair were supposed to be in here to...

To...

She squinted her eyes.

_What was this program supposed to do?_

She gasped as she thought this. Her internal voice didn’t sound like her.

“Aw, did it sound like me?” 

Mukuro scooted back in the sand, panicked. 

Junko Enoshima sat across from her, grinning ear to ear. “Hey sis. Been a long time since I saw you. I mean, did you even get a chance to say goodbye after Makoto stabbed me in the neck?”

Mukuro gave a wide-eyed stare. “You’re...”

“Dead? Of course I've perished,” Junko said in her queenly manner. “Clearly in the virtual world I’ve come to haunt you. You think you’d be happy to see your only family here, but I guess that’s asking a little much.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Dead people can’t be in this program. They said,” Mukuro said, grabbing the sides of her head. 

“Who cares what anyone fucking said?” Junko asked, sticking her tongue out. She sprang up in the sand. “The point is, you can see me, right?! The fuck you gonna do about it?!” 

Mukuro stood up, slowly, staring down her sister. _What am I going to do about it? At least the voice in my head sounds like me._

“Hey there!”

Mukuro’s head tilted to the right, looking towards where the beach met a walkway and fought to keep a scowl off her face. 

Nagito Komaeda was approaching her with a friendly smile - a face she didn’t trust in the slightest. But he was someone she could handle much more easily than...

_Junko?_

The Ultimate Despair herself had disappeared. _There’s no way she could have slipped away without me noticing._

“Hey, are you okay?” Nagito’s voice came from her side. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Mukuro turned and eyed Nagito suspiciously. His odd... love-hate relationship with Junko put the two of them at odds, and he usually wouldn’t be nearly as cordial with Mukuro.

But... he didn’t seem to be sending any ill-intent her way. 

“Oh!” Nagtio exclaimed. “Where are my manners? I need to introduce myself to an Ultimate! I’m Nagito Komaeda. They call my talent Ultimate Luck... which is kind of a crappy talent compared to whatever yours must be.”

Mukuro let her shoulders relax, only slightly. _They don’t remember._ She felt like she was supposed to know that. 

“I’m Mukuro Ikusaba. The... Ultimate Soldier.” She replied, plainly. She had considered telling some sort of cover talent... but she wasn’t much of a liar.

“Wow, that’s such an amazing talent! I only hope someone as worthless as me doesn’t get in the way,” he huffed, still smiling pleasantly through his self-deprecation.

She cringed. For as alike as Nagito and Makoto were, their differences set the two worlds apart, and those differences made Nagito unbearable in her eyes. 

“Well, you were the last one awake, so I thought I’d come check on you,” Nagito continued. “Come on, the teacher told us all to gather at the hotel and make introductions.”

Mukuro’s eyebrow raised. _Teacher?_  
\-------  
A trickle of sweat ran down Makoto’s spine. Behind him, he could hear Sakura and Mondo pounding against the chamber for the Neo World Program Oversight Room. They’d never be able to break in, as it was designed that way. 

He supposed it was his rotten luck that he was trapped in here, staring eye to eye with Izuru Kamukura. 

The Ultimate Hope engineered by Hope’s Peak sat on top of the pod he should have been occupying, and peered down at the body inside it instead of him.

“Makoto Naegi,” Izuru said, his same bored tone. “They call you the Ultimate Hope. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

Makoto tried not to gulp in fear. “Alright. We can talk.” His eyes shifted behind him. Sakura and Mondo were still there, and it looked like the others had fled to go get help.

But who would be able to help against...

“Relax,” Izuru replied, looking to the side. “If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so already.”  
\-------  
Mukuro had stayed mostly silent as Nagito introduced himself to all the other students, who were now all gathered at Jabberwock Park, waiting for their teacher. She sat on a bench, away from the others, gazing at the teenagers as they socialized. It was all she could do to stop herself from going into a crazy defense mode.

These were all members of Ultimate Despair, acting as though they were just normal teenagers and not murderers who had set the world ablaze for the last several years. If Junko was involved somehow, would they regain their memories? Turn against her? 

_I can handle most of them, but I’m unarmed and -_

Mukuro flinched. The voice in her ahead was not hers again. Last time that happened - 

She blinked her eyes, and she saw the knees of her sister in her peripheral vision, sitting next to her on the bench. 

“Wow, you picked up on that pretty quick!” Junko said, with mock-admiration. “I didn’t think swine could be so observant.”

Mukuro said nothing, and watched the Remnants of Despair. They looked all around the park, and paid no mind to Junko at all. After awhile, she said, “They can’t see you, can they?”

“Nope. I’m your own personal ghost, sis. I get to haunt you and cause you despair for the rest of your days!” Junko gave a peace sign and a broad grin at the statement. 

“At least until I get out of here.” Mukuro replied. 

“Party pooper,” Junko sneered. “Why leave? Aren’t these your people? Don’t you remember the good times you had with them? I made sure you did, because they sure as fuck don’t... not yet.” 

Mukuro furrowed her brow and turned to her sister. “What does that mean?”

Junko pointed to Peko and Fuyuhiko, ignoring the question Mukuro posed. “Remember when you lead a battalion of yakuza into Boston and overrun the whole city, placing Fuyuhiko in as the head of the city? You made it even worse than that apocalypse video game series! But your last visit with them wasn’t so great, was it? At least they can walk here.”

Mukuro looked over at the two yakuza, and let out a sound of discontentment. “A lot has changed in the last few years Junko. You won’t push me into despair by reminding me of things that happened when you were alive.”

“You keep that attitude up,” Junko laughed. “But you always used to say you understood me better than anyone. But you know what?”

“What?” Mukuro replied.

“The reverse is true. I know you better than you even know yourself.” 

“Not anymore. Not since you’ve been gone.” 

Junko’s laugh grated at Mukuro’s ears, making her grip the bench beneath her tightly. “You keep thinking that, Muku. We’ll see which one of us is right. Now watch. This is when it gets good.” 

Mukuro’s eyes widened in vague surprise when Usami, the puppetry of Gekkoghara’s sprang up from the statue in the middle of Jabberwock. “Oh for the love of...” she muttered from the back of the students. 

Junko slung herself over Mukuro’s shoulder as Usami began explaining about Hope Fragment’s. The soldier furrowed her brow, the words sounding echoey and distant, but also familiar. She’d heard this plan before, right?

“Isn’t it lame?” Junko snickered. “You don’t remember, but Makootie’s plan is really lame.” 

“I have a feeling you’re here to mess it up,” Mukuro whispered. 

“What makes you think I’d do a thing like thaaaaaaaat?” Junko giggled in her Fashionista voice. 

As if synced up to her words, Monokuma sprang up from the same spot on the statue Usami had been on. 

Mukuro grimaced, and noticed Junko had vanished as the bear appeared.

Monokuma only meant that this ended with a killing game.  
\-------  
“Okay, so...” Makoto said, pulling up a chair and sitting across from Izuru. Behind him, a screen was displaying the Neo World Program blared, showing him the whole conversation Mukuro and Junko had just had. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Well, you know, when Junko contacted me during the Killing Game at Hope’s Peak, she struggled with you.” Izuru replied. “After all, you seemed to just, by some stroke of luck, thwart or outsmart each of her plans. You didn’t lose your memories. You were executed and somehow failed to die. You even managed to accidentally murder her.” 

“Not my fondest memory, even if it did set the world on the path to salvation,” Makoto muttered, looking at his knees. 

“That’s another thing she got wrong about you,” Izuru said in his bored drawl. “You’re naive. Her, like everyone else, confuses naivete with stupidity. But it’s not. Just like in that statement. You’re smart enough to know that killing her was the best thing to do, but sentimental and hopeful enough to wish you didn’t have to.” He stood up on the pod Mukuro was in and stretched. “Luck always struck me as a boring talent, you know. Komaeda’s was so predictable, in it’s cycles. Yours though? Inconsistent. Sketchy.” A shadow of a smirk danced across his pale face for a split second. “Actually somewhat interesting.”

“You’re like Junko, then,” Makoto reasoned. “I’ve been told, like her, you’re constantly bored by always knowing what’s going to happen.”

“Other than that, I’m... nothing like Junko,” Izuru scoffed. “I assure you, Naegi.” 

“Then why side with the Ultimate Despair? Why force Mukuro into your place at the last second?” Makoto asked. He tilted his head. “Does it have something to do with Junko contacting you?”

“She did, yes,” Izuru admitted. “She suspected her time might be expiring when Alter Ego was attacking her systems. But... she managed to copy the program.”

Makoto stood up, shocked. “She copied Alter Ego?! Then -”

“That’s right,” the taller boy said through a yawn. “She’s in the Neo World Program right...now... As a virus of sorts.”

Makoto gulped. “I... I need to get in there and save Mukuro then. Shut the whole thing down.”

“I can’t allow you to do that,” Izuru responded, plainly.

“Why?”

“Oh, I don’t want you to. That’s all.” 

Makoto shifted. The futile pounding against the doors of the chamber told him he was in for a long day. 

He sat back down. “Alright then. You’ve locked me in here with you. What is it you want with me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Twitter if you want to, I usually only post for updates.   
> @wtfnickcrazy


	2. Killing Game, Again

Mukuro silently watched Class 77b discuss their reactions to... the giant mess they had just witnessed. Even at Junko’s most ridiculous schemes, of which she could recall many, seeing two moving stuffed animals beat the crap out of each other ranked rather highly. Unsurprisingly, Monokuma had seized the means of control, made himself headmaster of the students, and changed their school activity to a mutual killing game. 

To their credit, she felt the classmates were handling it better than hers did, though mainly because the Ultimate Imposter posing as Byakuya Togami was taking charge to keep everyone safe. It was relatively amusing; he had the voice and mannerisms down, but the personality was completely opposite of the true heir. Between trying to keep everyone safe and assurances that everyone would be alright, she couldn't help but think, _I think I prefer this one._

Again, the voice in her head didn’t sound like hers. It wasn’t Junko’s though. Not exactly. It was more... Mukuro’s impression of Junko. _No wonder Makoto saw right through this._

Still, to be back in another killing game, after having already gone through one two years ago... It was disheartening. If only because she couldn’t remember how she’d let herself get into this mess in the first place. Only bits and pieces of her memories were missing. The Ultimate Despair were in here. She knew Makoto and Kyoko wanted them in here...

But why?

And why was she in here?

Without speaking to any of her classmates after the fiasco, she returned to her cabin within the hotel accommodations. 

The lodging was... nice, she supposed. As nice as it could be. It wasn’t the room she had been staying in for the last two years. There was no easy way to sneak out and see Makoto either. There was no Sakura here to spar with, or Kyoko to chat with over coffee. 

Perhaps that was what was nice; the last time she was in a killing game, she didn’t have anything to miss. Now she did. She had a life. She had friends.   
\-------  
 _“I suppose I should apologize to you,” Mukuro said plainly, as she sat next to Sakura in an empty room of the Future Foundation._

_“Hm?” Sakura hummed. This was the third day Sakura had been assigned to guard Mukuro as part of her probationary period with the Future Foundation, and they had spent the previous two in silence._

_Mukuro, while having grown somewhat comfortable with the others during the killing game, even seeing them as comrades, still felt uncomfortable with them one on one. “Well... you’re the Ultimate Martial Artist. A fighter. I’m sure sitting around with me isn’t what you wanted to do with your time.”_

_“I consider myself lucky to be afforded the chance at rebuilding society,” the martial artist replied, but then smiled. “Although this is pretty boring.”_

_“I’m sure they’ll have missions for you soon. I know they mentioned something about Towa Town,” Mukuro sighed, leaning against the cool, concrete wall. “I can’t help but feel guilty that you’re stuck with me because of your strength.”_

_Sakura placed a hand on the soldier’s shoulder. “There is no need to apologize. Truth be told, I’ve actually wanted to ask if you would be interested in sparring.”_

_Mukuro looked up at her, surprised. “You have?”_

_“Of course,” Sakura smiled again. “As Ultimate Soldier, I know your preference is in armed combat, but perhaps we could pass the time honing our hand to hand skills. It’d be a shame to let them go to waste.”_

_Mukuro looked around. “Well... they did stick us in an empty room while waiting for assignments they feel comfortable giving us. I’m all for it. Nothing here we can really break.”_

_Within an hour, the girl who’d never gotten an injury on the battlefield was covered in bruises. To her credit, she had worn down Sakura as well._

_“Yes,” Sakura heaved, standing up straight, “Yes, I was right to challenge you. This has been... enlightening.”_

_Mukuro grinned and wiped the sweat from her brow. “Then perhaps... we could do this again?”_  
\-------

She flopped down on the bed. “Whomp,” she said, articulating a sound effect. The very action she had taken to borrowing from Makoto made her melancholy. 

She was, of course, no Ultimate Analyst. But even she wasn’t fool enough to think this killing game was without danger. She was familiar with all of these students. Akane, Nekomaru, Pekoyama... all of them were in excellent physical condition to give her a struggle. As sharp as her skills were, she wasn’t thrilled about fighting any of them under the circumstances. 

Not that the others weren’t dangerous. Tsumiki - the submissive nurse who had followed Junko around, enthralled by her for so long, - knew enough medical malpractice to kill someone without leaving a trace. She was also more sadistic than she let on.

So was the princess, for that matter.

That, of course, didn’t even include...

“Nagito.” She seethed.

She jumped as Junko’s face appeared over hers. 

“Yeah, that white-haired loon nearly stumped our plans a few times, didn’t he?” Junko giggled, sticking her tongue out at her sister. “I guess that’s the difference with him and your little boy toy. Makoto kept getting in bad, unlucky situations and always came out on top. Nagito’s luck was reliable enough to get him close to stopping us, but he’d always just fall short.”

Mukuro stared up at the face of her dead sister. The day itself was enough to make her question her sanity. “Why am I here, Junko?”

Junko’s eyebrow raised. She hadn’t expected such a straightforward question. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Mukuro sat up. “I have most of my memories. More than the Remnants of Despair do. But the memories I don’t have are about what the plan for this program was. And I know damn well I’m not supposed to be the one in here.”

Junko laughed, and propped her elbows up on her thighs. “But who was? Who was supposed to take your place?”

Mukuro froze up, thinking about it. It had been a mental block in her memory, but it was all so clear now that Junko had said it.

“Oh.” she mouthed. “Right. Him.”  
\-------  
“I have to say... I didn’t think you would surrender so easily,” Makoto admitted, trying not to fidget in his chair. “I suspected you had an ulterior motive, but never one like this.”

“Well, like I said... you’re pretty smart,” Izuru said. “I bet it got your heart racing when you saw what had happened.”

Makoto bit his lip. “You’re... not wrong.”  
\-------  
 _Makoto, Mukuro, Kyoko, and Sakura were leading the Remnants of Despair into the Neo World Program chamber, according to plan. The rest of class 78 took the rear, awaiting and watching in case anything went wrong._

_Makoto and Kyoko had secured the remnants, one by one, into their pods, the Remnants not making any sound. Mukuro and Sakura stood by the door, guarding the whole thing._

_Though neither had admitted it, Makoto and Mukuro were both nervous. This was going too well._

_The only Remnant speaking was Nagito, talking about what a great hope Makoto was, what an honor it was to finally meet him. It was plain to tell from the look on Makoto’s face he was relieved to finally get the boy in the pod where he couldn’t be heard anymore._

_The last to get in would be Izuru Kamukura. Kyoko and Makoto each took an arm to escort him into his pod. But at the last second, with great strength, Kamukura spun, flinging Makoto across the room, and Kyoko towards the door. Sakura caught the detective, but both girls were knocked back into the open door, knocking over the rest of class 78. Mukuro ran forward to intervene, but Izuru had already zipped past her, sealing the door, and putting the soldier in a choke hold._

_Mukuro tried to twist out of the hold, but a clubbing blow to the back of her neck made her vision blur. Before she knew it, she was shoved into the pod._  
\-------  
Mukuro shuddered as the memory came flooding back to her. “Kamukura should be here in my place.”

“Well, you were as fucking useless against him this time as the goddamn first!” Junko cackled. 

Mukuro stood up, frowning as she did. “So Kamukura put me in here... why?” She turned and looked to Junko. “Why would he put me in here? What does this have to do with you?”

Junko’s sadistic grin widened. “Same fucking reason I did anything. It entertained him.”

Before the soldier could get another word in, Junko vanished.

Mukuro stared at the spot for a long while, pondering what could have made Izuru decide to do this. He had never been a huge fan of Junko’s. Their goals had occasionally aligned, but they were not on the same side. Not at all. 

Something else was bugging her too. _Had Junko restored that memory to me? How did she do that?_

Mukuro looked out into the simulated night sky. Was time passing here in real time? Had she been in here a whole day?

With a heavy sigh, she turned and laid back down in her bed.

“I’m going to get out of here.” She sighed, closing her eyes. “And I’m going to get back to Makoto.” 

She drifted to an uneasy sleep. 

In her dreams, she was back at Hope’s Peak. Back during the first killing game. In her dream, her and the rest of class 78 were in the gymnasium. Junko had tricked her, was trying to kill her with spears. But Makoto pushed her out of the way, and was impaled himself. He spat blood at her, angrily, as he died. Then, he turned into Izuru Kamukura, pulled a spear out of his own stomach, and impaled her. 

“RIIIIIIIISE AND SHINE!” 

The nightmare-ridden sleep and the arrival of an intruder had Mukuro awake in a cold sweat, and before her eyes had opened, Mukuro found she had Ibuki Mioda by her throat. 

“Hey - Ack....” Ibuki gasped. “C-can’t... breathe!”

Mukuro released the singer’s neck, glaring at with scathing hatred. “Why are you here, Mioda?”

The musician beamed, as if she hadn’t just been throttled. Whether in hope or despair, the girl was... aggravating. “We all decided to meet for breakfast, so Ibuki decided to come get yoooooouuuuuu!” 

She practically sang the response, to Mukuro’s annoyance. “So you decided to break in?” 

“Yup!” Ibuki saluted. “Come, Ikusaba! Let us get the good-ass grub! Which is way better than good ass-grub, you know?” 

“What the...” Mukuro muttered as Ibuki pranced out of the room.

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, trying to forget about the nightmare she had. Ultimate Soldier as she was, if anyone terrified her, it was going to be the man waiting for her when she got out.

But Izuru could wait. She had a killing game to survive.


End file.
